


Easter Eggsy

by VioletSmith



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Bad Puns, Chocolate, Crack, Easter Eggs, Eggs, Epic Fail, Food, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14164029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletSmith/pseuds/VioletSmith
Summary: It's Easter, and Eggsy has a ridiculous plan and a mouth that doesn't know when to stop.





	Easter Eggsy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deepdarkwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts).



Harry Hart has never been a particular fan of chocolate. Especially not the cheaply-made, egg-shaped variety.

“You know, it’s not only birds that lay eggs,” Eggsy continues, oblivious, face smeared like a child’s with chocolate that, Harry suspects, doesn’t even come with a cacao percentage.

“I beg your pardon,” Harry begins, and then falters when Eggsy licks at his sticky lips, tongue swiping messily again and again at the sugary residue.

“Well there’s snakes. All sorts of reptiles really. Insects. Frogspawn.”

“Frogspawn?” Harrry’s distracted. He can’t help it. He’s only human. Well, maybe human and a half. Eggsy is licking his fingers one by one, eager and unselfconscious.

“Yeah. So what I’m saying is. Why are all the Easter eggs made to look like birds eggs? What’s that all about?”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t quite-”

“I mean it’s egg-racist. If you think about it.”

Harry finally tears his gaze from Eggsy’s mouth, at that. “Egg racist,” he says, flatly.

Eggsy rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean though.”

“I’m afraid I really don’t.”

“I mean why do we have chocolate chicken eggs and, I dunno, fucking ostrich eggs or whatever this one’s supposed to be...” Here, Eggsy holds up a huge, half eaten, slightly melted monstrosity that sits in his palm like a moderately sized football. “… but not fish eggs?”

Harry isn’t entirely sure where to begin. His burgeoning erection is wilting fast at the idea of chocolate frogspawn. He’s greatly relieved that the conversation is interrupted by Merlin entering the conference room, and proceeding to have a small tantrum at the mess Eggsy has made of the antique mahogany conference table and much of the tech that’s imbedded in it.

*

“It can’t be that bad,” Roxy says, sympathetically. And then: “What am I saying? Of course it can be that bad, and knowing you it’s probably worse.”

Eggsy groans, and buries his head in her lap. She pats his hair in an awkward attempt at a “there-there” sort of motion. It’s not the sort of thing that comes naturally to her.

“It’s all your fault,” Eggsy says, voice muffled, so she pushes him from her lap to the floor, and crosses her legs for good measure.

“Grumpy,” Eggsy grumps from the ground at her feet.

“It is in no way my fault. My plan was foolproof. Idiot proof in its simplicity. It’s actually _impressive_ to me that you’ve managed to balls it up so entirely.”

“Well I’m glad someone’s impressed,” Eggsy says, in a proper self-pitying voice. “Cos Harry sure as shit ain’t.”

“Look. Walk me through again what happened.”

Eggsy makes a pitiful sound and hides his head in his hands. When he speaks, the words come sneaking out through his fingers.

“So I was eating the chocolate, like you said. Sucking the fingers, oral fixation, box well and truly ticked. And for a bit he seemed pretty interested.”

“And then?” she prompts.

“Then… I might have panicked.”

“And?”

“And started talking about chocolate fish eggs.”

Roxy takes a deep, slow breath. “Right. Of course you did.”

For a moment there’s companionable silence between them while Roxy tries to work out what to say, how anything could possibly fix the god awful state of affairs that is Harry and Eggsy mooning over each other from a lovesick distance for all of eternity, getting on everyone’s nerves with their weirdly intense sexual tension and never just fucking it out like normal people.

The brief silence is interrupted by a sharp rap at the door. Eggsy lifts his head from his hands to look up at Roxy in confusion.

“Well?” She says. “It’s your house. Go and answer the bloody door.”

When he comes back into the room smiling like a child high on sugar, she knows it’s a hopeless case. “Delivery,” he says, and she can _hear_ the smile in that one word.

“Who was it, the Easter bunny?”

Eggsy holds up the box in his hands. Tastefully decorated, expensive-looking. A gift from Harry Hart. Roxy leans closer, peers at the elegant gold lettering. ‘Chocolate Caviar.’

She pulls a face. “You deserve each other,” she says.


End file.
